There's a first time for everything.

There’s your first kiss, your first time flying, the first time you get punched in the face (funny story…remind me later), and indeed, your very first blog post.

Let’s just be honest, I don’t know how often this’ll happen. I mean, this could very easily just become another MySpace page that I won’t log in to and won’t update, but sometimes you just have to carpe the damn diem and try it anyway. There is quite a wide spectrum of bloggers out there, as far as frequency is concerned. There are those whose pages have been sitting there, lonely and without an update since the series finale of Dawson’s Creek, and those whose pages catalog TMI from their morning breakfast cereal right up to the song they heard on the drive home. Not sure where I’ll fall on that spectrum yet, but you’d better believe that this one goes to eleven. Maybe I’ll score, like, a nice 5.5 or so.

Me: a brief pictorial tutorial (a pictutorial, if you will)

I like racquetball.

I play it twice a week with my mom, who beats me 50% of the time. I’m currently on a 2-game winning streak, go me. Those who don’t think racquetball is a real sport can just kiss my racquet. And yes, we do super cool wall moves like that one.

I sing...

...in both a choir and a band…..two very opposite outlets for the very different things I love about singing.

I work...

...1.5 jobs. The whole job is for a software company as a project manager and technical writer, the half job is as an online English Profetzer. Work is a necessary evil, but I really lucked out as far as jobs go.

I will pimp out my husband at every chance I get.

I meant pimp him out as an artist, so get your mind out of the gutter. He is a freelance graphic designer and artist and I will always brag about him, advertise for him, and try to get you to commission or hire him. So get used to it. It’s what proud wives do. So, does anyone need a family portrait commissioned for Christmas? Or a new logo or business card? Anyone?

I love my family.

Yes, I know, everyone loves his or her family, by law. But I’m pretty sure I love mine a little more than you love yours. This includes the family I was born in to, the family I married in to, and the other family that I’ve constructed myself through the years.

I dance. I party. Therefore, I Dance Party. (Yes those are capitalized)

If I had my choice, I would spend every single night of the century doing just what you see in the above. All week, I just sit in my cube, eternally plugged into iTunes, tapping my feet and biting my tongue so I don’t burst into song and dance, simultaneously.

I go to a lot of shows.

I intend to blog about them as an attempt to spark my atrophied writing hobby. I used to write articles and CD reviews for SLUG, but once I didn’t have an editor giving me deadlines, the hobby died. Here’s hoping.

I have an unhealthy obsession with good-looking European cars.

This obsession is mostly with Saabs, but I am open to Maseratis, Aston Martins, Mercedes, Audis, BMWs, Porches, Bentleys, Spykers, what have you. But I’ve had 4 Saabs already, I’m partial.

I’m kind of a grammar nazi.

I love words. But when people misuse them and their friends, punctuation marks, I go kind of insane.

Ice cream is my passion.

No explanation necessary.

Fassion is another passion.

Though, once you tell people you like fashion, they sort of expect you to be fashionable, which is a lot of pressure. I just love clothes. I love shopping, getting dressed in the morning, accessorizing, helping others accessorize, making fun of bad accessorizing, and seeing and experimenting with the fashions created by the masters—like Chanel, above. It's a good mix of the classic Chanel tweed ladylike suit, but with a splash of new, like the leggin-2-tone-hose-thingies that they were OBSESSED with at fashion week, and the dark-toed-feathered-platforms also featured on 8/10 of their runway models. I'm not so sure that I would rock either of those. But the dark jewelery with the suit? Chanellllo!

I camp.

That’s in tents, like camping. Mason bought us a new tent for our 5th wedding anniversary in June, and we spent at least 10 weekends this summer living in it. I may or may not like it better than our loft. There are less hobos sleeping underneath the front porch, for sure.

I’m really good at road trips.

The road trip can have many end destinations: a friend’s wedding, a family reunion, etc. But the best destination by far is a concert. The concert road trip is an art I’ve perfected since my first one to see The Ataris in Las Vegas like 8 years ago. Since then it’s been Baton Rouge to see Rx Bandits, San Diego to see Ghostland Observatory, and most recently, Hollywood to see Jackopierce. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit this, but I stopped counting how many times I’ve seen Rx….because it hit 30. The Stone Pony in Asbury Park, New Jersey was probably the farthest we’ve ever traveled to see them. I know, a bit ridiculous. I have a problem.

I may turn into a Crazy Cat Lady one day.

I already have two, and when the littlest one ceases to be a kitten (as is the cruel course of nature), I’m going to want another kitten. This will inevitably lead to….